Chapter Thirty-Four: Now More Than Ever We Long For Freedom

June 6, 1941

"Major Duerr said 'e put you in the cooler to be punished," said Peter to Luke that afternoon during rec hour. "Why? Was it because you wouldn't answer 'is questions?"

Luke looked up at him tiredly. "No. The creep put me in there."

"I donnae understand," said Stephen. "How does he have the right to put ye in the cooler?"

"Cause 'e 'as control o' the camps now, mate, that's why," answered Peter. "But why did the creep put you in there? Out o' spite?"

"No," answered Luke in the same monotonous tone. "I hit him."

Peter and Stephen's eyebrows shot up. "You hit him!"

"Yea," answered Luke listlessly. "He was laughing at something rather vulgar that I didn't approve of. So…I hit him."

Peter and Stephen looked at one another, and then scrutinized Luke more closely. Luke looked up and smiled. "I'm fine. Oddly, he didn't touch me. I thought I was dead meat, but at the time I didn't care. He just said I would be sent to the cooler."

"This is so ruddy confusin'," said Peter. "'E's toyin' with us." Peter stood up and took a few steps toward the fence that divided the camp. But he stopped, suddenly frustrated because he remembered that they could no longer talk with their French counterparts. He missed conversing with Louis. It was a comfort to spot him every now and then; the most they saw of one another was while working at the farm. But even then, the French and British were kept separate.

"Wot I want tae know is how this creep got control o' the camp," said Stephen. "The Major seemed so confident that he wouldnae let it happen. So, wot happened? I want tae know who screwed us over."

"Me too," said Peter. "But I don't think it was the Major's fault."

"How can ye say that," asked Stephen. "Ye think it's the Kommandant?"

"I especially don't think it's 'im," said Peter. "'E allowed the Major to deal with us as so. I actually think they just had no choice in the matter. I think Jöchmann pulled somethin' they weren't expectin' an' caught them off guard. Because, as you said, the Major was confident in bein' able to keep Jöchmann away. An' 'e plays a lot by the book as well. 'E was probably lookin' at the few options Jöchmann 'ad legally."

"So Jöchmann did something illegal," asked Stephen. "Why couldnae they just take that tae the superiors? Put Jöchmann in the light and get rid o' him?"

"Maybe 'e 'as somethin' on them," suggested Peter.

"But you just said the Major likes to play by the book," countered Stephen. "And if he did, Jöchmann wouldnae have anything on him."

Peter stopped. "'E likes to play fair. 'E likes to stretch it though. Because looks at 'ow 'e treats us. Though it's a damn prison camp, we survive an' 'e 'elps when things get out o' our 'ands. That can't be in the Nazi rulebook. But wot if 'e's done somethin' in the past? 'Im or the Kommandant? They 'id it, thinkin' they'd never 'ear from it again, but Jöchmann found it. Now, 'e's usin' it as leverage."

"Blackmail," murmured Luke. "And ultimately, we suffer from it."

"Yes," said Peter. "We do."

They were not the only ones to come to this sort of conclusion. Everyone was sure that Jöchmann had pulled some foul trick. Still, few could help but be angry with the Major and Kommandant for letting it happen. The previous incidents had confidently suggested that there was little Jöchmann could have ever done. But with the sudden turn of events, the captors were to blame. Since the day that Luke had been taken everyone was on guard for Jöchmann to show up randomly. But for the next week, he never made an appearance and business went on as usual. The progress on the tunnel had slowed down tremendously, though, because recreation hall was given up only thirty minutes to the French and then thirty to the British. Recreation hour seemed dimmer than ever since there were more guards patrolling inside the fence now.

***** ***** *****

June 13, 1941

Torben Arcenau came back from work in town with interesting news that confirmed something of blackmail between Jöchmann and the Kommandant. Though the details of the blackmail were not known, enough had been said to confirm it. While working on the roads in town, two SS soldiers (who were more frequent in sight now) were talking nearby to where Torben was. He decided to listen for any useful information. Eventually he was about to abandon the idea because it was mostly a futile conversation. But, at the end, one asked the other why Jöchmann had gone to Berlin last month. This immediately perked up Torben's interest. The other answered that Jöchmann had spent hours going through Wehrmacht records, and afterwards he spoke of having Stalag XXXA for himself. Though nothing else was said because the soldier proclaimed ignorance of anything else, Torben had been satisfied that he now knew most of the truth.

Back at camp, Torben went straight to the officers Géraud and Noël and told them what he had heard. Géraud was glad because he felt it meant that if neither Duerr nor the Kommandant had a hand in the changes at camp, they might be pressured into changing some of it. But only if all the officers participated. So, Géraud called for Louis to find a way to relay the news to Peter, as they had done in the past. Despite not being able to talk through the wire, Louis found it easy enough to complete that mission. He left his hat underneath the stage in the rec hall, where he knew Peter would be later on. Inside the hat, he sewed in a note which explained everything.

As assumed, Peter did find the hat, and immediately knew it was meant for him to find. The note was easily found, and the information then relayed on. He left another note in reply for the officers who decided they were in on the plan to pressure Duerr and the Kommandant.

To avoid suspicion for a few days they planned what they would say. If they acted like they knew too much or had been communicating, it would only put them in further trouble. To plan their statements, they used Peter and Louis's message scheme. Before they could act, though, letters came, and for a day rec hour was silent.

In Barracke 14, letters were quickly handed out and every mean retreated to their bunk for privacy. Peter ripped his open. The first thing he did was check the name on the bottom: Mavis. Good. Then, he quickly skimmed through it looking for signs of death. He expected the words about what was gone or still standing. After assuring himself that no one else he knew had died, he laid back to formally read the letter. Luke's head suddenly appeared from the top bunk. The younger man looked at him upside down.

"Everything okay," Luke asked.

"Yes," answered Peter. "Everyone's alright. You?"

"Yes," answered Luke. "All my sisters talk about is their nurse training, though. It's kind of boring. But my oldest sister is joining the WAAF."

"Yea, Mavis keeps saying she wants to but I told her not until she finishes school."

"Okay, well I'll let you finish your letter."

"Thanks."

Luke rolled back over, leaving Peter alone.

Below Peter, Stephen sat down as he opened his letter. The first thing he noticed when he unfolded it was that it was in his brother's hand. He was surprised, but happy because he hadn't heard from his brother in awhile. But as he read the letter, his spirits dipped lower than ever.

Dear Stephen,

I know I haven't written in a long time, and there's no excuse because I'm not that busy. But now, I am forced to write you because tragedy has struck us. On March 13th and 14th, Clydebank was bombed by the Luftwaffe. On the 13th, Shona and Maisie went there to visit her Shona's sister and mother. I am sorry to inform you, brother, that all of them perished that night. They say that about 500 people were killed. Clydebank was turned to rubble in 48 hours.

Brother, I am no man for helping those with sorrow, but I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for you. I know how much you loved and cared for your wife and child, and how much they loved you as well. I wish I could say more, but I there is nothing else I can think of to say. When I received the news, I went to Clydebank to get their bodies. Since you would have been the only relatives left for Shona, I made sure all of them were giving honors. Shona's mother and sister were buried in Clydebank's cemetery with their neighbors. I brought Shona and Maisie back to your estate and buried them in our town cemetery. Everyone sends their deepest condolences and I wish I could be there for you now.

Deeply sorry, your brother,

Tristan

Stephen looked up from the letter slowly. Instead of seeing the drab barracks and the lost boys in uniform, he was looking a lovely house out in the Highlands, sheltered by rolling green hills and low cloud. Behind the house sheep grazed endlessly. But in front of the house, that was what Stephen could see most vividly. In the flower and vegetable garden a young woman worked tirelessly in her simple, but pleasant green working dress. Her dark brown hair was pulled up revealing her pale, flawless face with high cheekbones, thin, pink lips and light green eyes. As she worked a little girl in a flowery dress ran around the garden, playing her own games. She eventually ran out the picket fence and into the fields to pick the wild flowers of the moors. That was Shona, his wife, tending the garden as she always loved to do. And there was Maisie running freely in her innocent way.

Stephen didn't have any grasp of time or place at the moment. So, when Luke touched him lightly on the shoulder, he jerked in surprise. He blinked and his vision was gone. With that, another thought came to him. That vision had been of his home, family, and freedom. But he now knew that he had lost all of it. A home and freedom would be an empty void without his Shona or Maisie. Stephen came to the sudden realization that he no longer had a reason to fight; fight for survival, fight for a family, a home, a country, freedom for tyranny. Because whatever was achieved in the end would mean nothing to him. He would never be whole again.

Stephen blinked as he felt tears building up in his eyes. He looked up and saw Peter and Luke looking down at him with concern. The others in the barracks appeared to know nothing but their letters. Stephen looked back at Peter and Luke.

"Yea?"

"You alright, mate?"

Stephen blinked again and stood up quickly. "I'm goin' outside fer a bit." He walked past them to the door.

"We're confined to barracks," said Peter.

But Stephen said nothing more and went outside. Peter and Luke looked at one another.

"It must be bad news," whispered Luke.

Peter just nodded. He looked back to Stephen's bunk, but the Scot had taken the letter with him. "We should just give 'im some time."

"What about the guards," asked Luke.

"They'll just bring 'im back 'ere," said Peter.

They sat in silence for a moment, before neither of them could take it any longer. They hurried outside. Stephen was on the side of the barracks seated on a bench staring at his letter and sobbing. At first, Peter and Luke were so shocked they just stood there. Then, they ran to him.

"Stephen! Stephen, what happened?"

Luke got to him first and sat down beside him. Peter stood some feet away, quite unsure how to deal with this. He wasn't good at comforting people or helping them when things went emotionally wrong. But he knew Luke could handle it.

Stephen just handed him the letter while he shook with sobs. Luke looked at it and then handed it to Peter. Peter read it quickly, and immediately his anger boiled up. He turned around and punched the barracks wall. Luke glared at him as he put an arm around Stephen's shoulders. Peter squelched his anger some in order to keep his composure for Stephen's sake.

"Stephen," said Luke softly. "I'm really, really sorry. But it's going to be okay. Because now they can watch over you."

"No, no, no," sobbed Stephen.

Peter started pacing and Luke went on.

"I know it's unjustified to you and us, but there must have been a reason," he said. "Remember what you told Peter on the march, when we were almost executed? You said that when God says it's your time, it's just your time. God had a reason for taking them."

"But why," asked Stephen, with another gut-wrenching sob. "Why? It's Maisie! Maisie is onlay five years old! Five! And did all o' Clydebank have tae go? Why did so manay people have tae die?"

"I don't know," said Luke. "I wish I did. We all wish we did. But Stephen, its war—"

"They're civilians," cried Stephen. "Women, children, old men, old women, people who don't belong in war."

"None of us belong in war," said Peter suddenly. "But we're 'ere." Stephen looked at him, and Peter came to stand in front of him. "We don't belong 'ere, but we're still 'ere. An' we can't give up."

"Give up," echoed Stephen. "Why shouldnae I give up? Wot's left fer me back there?"

"Your freedom," answered Luke forcefully. "Freedom. And the world's freedom."

"I couldn't live in that world," said Stephen. "Not without Shona and Maisie."

"Listen," said Luke. "What if we weren't in a war right now? Pretend it's before. What if they had died some other way? Some other way that wasn't justified either: a fire or a train wreck? Would you have given up then? Probably for a bit, because that's natural. But you would keep living. You would still keep living for them and their legacy they left behind. Because it would mean that much to you." Stephen stared at Luke. "You can't give you here, though. Not long. Because you're definitely not alone here. You have me, and Peter, and Marcel and Louis. There are people here that need you, because we all need one another to get through this. To make it out alive, to get back to the freedom, we need everyone. You can't give up."

Stephen shook his head. "But…but they're gone."

"Hey!"

All three looked up to Berg who was standing down the barracks, looking at them.

"Vat are you doing out here? Get back inside!"

He started to approach them, and Peter quickly walked up to him to slow him down. In a low voice, he said. "Look 'ere, Bergie. Me mate Stephen got some bad news from 'ome. 'E lost family. 'E just needed some air an' privacy, so that's why we're out 'ere. But we won't be doin' anythin'. Does it look like we are? No, we're just talkin' nice an' quiet right there, an' I promise we'll be in shortly. We'll be back in before you call us for dinner. Promise."

Berg looked skeptical but nodded. "Fine. But if you are not, it vill mean the cooler. For you."

"Me," asked Peter. "Not even them?"

Berg smiled. "You, Corporal Newkirk, is who goes in the cooler."

Peter made a face, but Berg left them alone. He turned back around where Luke continued to console Stephen. Peter sighed wearily and leaned against the barracks.

"Peter," Stephen asked.

Peter looked up. "Yea, mate?"

"How long for the tunnels?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. It's goin' so slow."

"I need oot," murmured Stephen. "I need tae get home."

"We all do," said Luke. "We all want to get home."

***** ***** *****

June 24, 1941

This was the day that the officers decided they would begin pressuring Major Duerr and the Kommandant for some of their privileges back. The one they insisted on trying for first was to have fraternization between the British and French. They did not converge all on one day, but Géraud spoke first.

"Major," he said to Duerr in his office. "The morale is too low. Compounded with news from home, the men are only getting antsier. Unless you want eventual trouble I suggest you give us a bit more freedom."

"I simply cannot," answered Duerr. "Rules are rules. I will not allow you to converse with the other side of the camp any longer."

Géraud's argument dwindled from there, as it appeared Duerr was not going to budge. The warning was passed on through Peter before Lawrence went in for a jab.

"We all have friend on the other side," argued Lawrence. "If we could just talk to them for a little while. You can keep us split up during work; I understand your point there: less talk, more work. But by splitting us up, the men only hate you more. They already believe that you are the source for all their trouble."

"I am not here to appease them," said Duerr flatly. "I am here to keep them in prison. I have no care for their emotions. You are all prisoners and that is what my job tells me to keep you as. Therefore, that is all I see you as. You are dismissed, Captain."

The officers argued again for another two days, but both were sent away feeling as if they had lost. However, on June 30th, they were surprised when Duerr announced the for the rec hour only, would the camp be integrated. After a tiring month some began to believe that with this small victory coupled with Jöchmann's absence for some time, meant that times were looking brighter.

But for some like Stephen, freedom was the only way that things could look brighter.

On March 13th and 14th, 1941, Clydebank in northern Scotland was bombed. Eight out of 12,000 homes were left undamaged. 528 people were killed and another 417 injured. 35,000 were made homeless.